


Maid in Heaven

by seraphim_grace



Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, PWP, Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-24
Updated: 2013-03-24
Packaged: 2017-12-06 07:35:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/733072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seraphim_grace/pseuds/seraphim_grace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crawford and Aya make a bet, the forfeit is a little black maid's dress.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maid in Heaven

Of all the things that Crawford admired in the Japanese first and foremost was their discretion. Of course any country that had developed some of the perversions the Japanese had had to be discrete. Crawford had a small, discrete, executive apartment in Ise that he leased under an assumed name and paid for in cash. They asked no questions and Crawford like that, it gave him a convenient place to take his lover not far from Tokyo. Thus whenever he managed to wrangle a concession from his lover, he took him to Ise.

It had started with a bet. It was a silly thing, and Crawford had been under strict instruction not to use his precognition, but the terms of the bet had spiralled, meaning that the loser would spend a weekend entirely at the other's mercy, using the safeword “Kangaroo” being sure that neither of them would call it out in an unguarded moment by mistake. 

It was all to do with the lyrics of a song on the radio.

Aya had been adamant that the woman was singing “Turn around, right round.”

Crawford, on the other hand, knew that she was singing “turn around bright eyes.”

It had gotten bad enough with the bickering that the bet was made, and then embellished and Aya had stood up and gone to Crawford's laptop thrusting it at him saying “look it up.”

Crawford had been right.

Crawford had been wonderfully indulged in being right, both for the pleasure of the happy little bicker, and there was always fun to be had in those because they were like harmless fights, winning, and Aya's scowl that suggested he had been singing his words, which were wrong, for years. Aya didn't like to be wrong.

 

So now Crawford sat on the stool in the Ise apartment's bathroom as Aya washed him. In a maid's dress. And Headpiece. And apron. And a scowl that should curdle milk, nonetheless his hands were soft as he rubbed the soap and sponge into Crawford's back. He also had gotten past the point of saying “I can't believe I agreed to do this.”

The bathing wasn't new, it was a simple intimate thing that they shared without it being all about sex, they talked in the bath and washed each other's back, but the maid's outfit, which wasn't highly cut or provocative, or from that lovely Sohma boy's shop that Schuldig told him about, did make a difference.

The dress was simple and conservative, it had a high collar, long sleeves and a knee length a line skirt with petticoat. Aya, never one to take half measures, was wearing sheer black stockings with it though. It made it much sexier than the ones he had considered with the split miniskirts, layers of frills and low necklines.

His hands were diligent and sure as he washed his back, and then lifted the shower head to rinse him down, before kneeling, skirt hiked up to prevent it getting too wet, between Crawford's open legs. Then with hands covered in the softly fragranced gel Aya began to wash his cock and balls. It wasn't an arousing gesture, it was thorough and diligent and Crawford started thinking every unsexy thought he could possibly think of so that he didn't ruin this. Aya could be pissy over diligence being mistaken for a sexual advance. 

Takatori. 

Takatori in a bikini blowing kisses. 

Takatori in the full Naruto sexy no jutsu outfit blowing kisses complete with sideburns. 

He stopped for a moment wondering where the hell that one had come from, but he was staying limp, and turned his attention to Aya who could get pissy if he thought he was being ignored.

Aya was smiling and knowing what it was doing to Crawford. Crawford wanted him to lean forward and open that slim mouth.

He changed that thought immediately trying to remember the trick Schuldig used, oh yes, try and remember the names of the entire championship winning Arsenal squad of 1961, including substitutes. But he didn't know anything about soccer.

Thankfully that was the moment Aya chose to stood up and lifted the shower head again to rinse him down, and then wrapped a towel about his waist.

Crawford was convinced then that Aya was playing with him.

He could play too.

 

“Aya,”

“Yes, master.” He sounded so darlingly sarcastic when he said it too, Crawford had not asked this of him as terms of the bet, Aya had thought it up all on his own. He had gotten some supplies from his suitcase, setting them down on the low table, and Aya was stood at the sink taking ice from the tray by running it under the tap and then cracking it between his hands. There was a jug of pomegranate juice beside him. 

“Put your hands on the side, palms down.”

Aya raised an eyebrow but obeyed him.

Crawford lifted the jug of juice and poured two glasses, which he then set on the back of Aya's hands. “Don't move.” He said, “don't spill it, it's expensive.” Crawford dipped his fingers into the juice, that rested on Aya's right hand, and pulled out an ice cube, he ran it the length of Aya's face down to his mouth, so that the juice and icewater left a trail. His back was pressed against Aya's, and he found he quite liked the rather austere maid's dress Aya was wearing. He himself was only wearing a towel.  
He popped the ice cube into Aya's mouth and then pulled back Aya's hips. Aya had to manoeuvre himself carefully so that he could step back and not move the glasses. Crawford, with a smile that Aya couldn't see, lifted up the skirt and the frilly petticoat and hung them on Aya's back.

Aya, never one to do things by halves, was wearing panties. He was wearing women's panties, but not the sort that Crawford expected made of silk and lace and barely there, but instead he wore a perfectly serviceable pair of stout pink marl cotton panties with elasticated waist and thighs. Crawford decided he really liked those panties.

From the things he had taken from his suitcase Crawford lifted a small, slim pink anal vibrator. Interestingly, although it was not something he had planned, it was the same colour as Aya's panties. Crawford's cock told him that it was considering it's happy place and if Crawford played his cards right, possibly introducing it to it's happy place, that this would be mutually advantageous. 

For a split second he wondered why vibrators and things always tended to come in colours like pink and purple and red, but he supposed that someone brandishing a large dildo made of black siliconised rubber would be quite intimidating.

He took the curved end of the vibrator and ran it the length of the cleft of Aya's ass through the fabric. Aya jolted. “Steady,” Crawford said, breathing the word into his ear, and then pushed the tip of the vibrator down, under his balls and pushed just a little. It wasn't on so it was just pressure that hardened his lover underneath him, made him cry out and as he rubbed the vibrator against his balls, rock into it. 

“Don't spill it.” Crawford's breath was hot and balmy as Aya rubbed against the vibrator and then it was gone. Aya made a small discontented sound and then Crawford hooked his thumbs under the waistband of the panties and slowly pulled them down, so they hung just below his ass, then stepped back, as much to allow himself to breathe as to torment his lover.

“Take your panties off, I can't see.” Crawford said and was proud his voice didn't squeak, he really thought it should in situations like these.

“My hands.” Aya protested.

“Use your hips.” And Aya began to sway trying to work the panties down, showing the pink pucker of his ass as he moved. “slowly,” He added, “make it a show for me, slowly and sexily.” And So Aya spread his legs just a little more and began to gyrate to work the panties down.

Crawford's cock decided that there was room in it's heart for more than just Aya, because it loved Aya, and that it might be passing fond of it's owner as well.

“Spread your legs a little more, so I can see better.” The glasses on the back of his hands clinked as Aya stepped back and began to move, the panties slipping down a bit more, revealing his perineum and balls. Then Aya arched, with a groan, and Crawford caught sight of his bobbing cock. Tearing open a condom packet he rolled it unto the vibrator and slicked it with the lube he had taken out at the same time, then he stepped back up against his lover.

Aya was spread open for his pleasure and he slowly began tracing the vibrator down the length of his cleft, against his balls and then up along his cock. The ice jangled in the jar. “Crawford,” Aya whined. Crawford's cock liked it when Aya whined.

Crawford then pulled the vibrator back slowly, using the very tip of it and pushed it inside his lover with no preparation and very little teasing. It wasn't a very large vibrator, slightly bigger than a finger, and he knew it wouldn't hurt his lover, but he knew what he was doing, pressing it against Aya's prostate and switching it on to full with a loud buzz. Aya yelped and jumped and the two glasses of juice he had been resting on the back of his hands went flying. Crawford turned the vibrator off.

Crawford stepped back, “I told you not to spill it, now I'll have to punish you.” He licked his lips. “Lie on your back and spread your legs.”

Careful of the juice and the vibrator that was stuck in him Aya did that, his feet flat on the floor and his cock was a wonderful deep plum colour, Crawford took the last of his supplies from the table and snapped a cock ring around Aya's arousal. “Beautiful.” He said. He licked his lips again. “On to your knees.” And Aya, moving gingerly around the vibrator moved to show him.

The vibrator was bobbing with his arousal, and Aya knew it. “Please, Master,” he said more careful this time, “I can't take much more.”

Crawford looked at his own erection, covered with a towel. “Come here,” he said, “take care of this and I might relieve your punishment.”

Aya eagerly crawled across to him, opened the towel and when he went to suck the crown into his mouth Crawford stopped him with a finger on his lips. “Lick it,” he said, “like the kitten you are.” Aya stuck his tongue out and began to lap the head.

Crawford's cock was calling for a mutiny, it loved Aya, it was more than prepared to run away and live out it's life with him, whether Crawford wanted to come with it or not.

Aya settled up unto his knees and then with one hand around the shaft licked the head, his other hand, Crawford noticed, slipping between his legs to the vibrator, moving it slightly. Then he looked up at Crawford, brought the other hand back up to cup Crawford's balls and sucked the head into his mouth.

Aya was good at this. So as Aya bobbed his head back and forth Crawford almost didn't notice the hand that had held the shaft slinking back between his legs, rubbing his cock, once, twice and then reaching for the vibrator and turning the dial to switch it on.

“Uh uh,” Crawford said pushing him unto his back, “I am your master and i get to decide if and when you get to come.” He grabbed the vibrator turning it unto to full and repeatedly jabbed at Aya's prostate until he was just short of orgasm and then stopped. Aya made a moue of discontent. “I decide if and when you get to come, depending on how well you service me.”

Crawford laid back on the floor with his erection on full display and tucking his ear tails behind his ears he crawled over and with one hand on Crawford's hip to steady him, and the other lifting and separating Crawford's balls deep-throated him. It took everything Crawford had not to make a noise at that, and to maintain at least the appearance of control. Aya didn't bother for subtlety, he made a couch of his tongue and with a light suction bobbed.

Crawford wanted more and Aya seemed to be in a move for giving so he rolled Aya unto his back and fucked his throat and Aya let him. He was aware of the buzzing of the vibrator and the way Aya's throat worked, moaning probably but unable to come with the ring on. With his last conscious thought before he surrendered to orgasm he reached down and undid the latch.

Aya came, jerking his hips up and practically rolling his throat around Crawford, humming. The sight was enough, Crawford pulled out of Aya's mouth and then with two quick jerks of his cock came across it.

He took a moment to appreciate Aya like that, post coital and glowing with threads of sticky semen splashed across his mouth and cheeks, his lips swollen and sticky and his eyes almost closed, the vibrator had at some point slid out of him in his orgasm and now buzzed futilely on the floor. Crawford turned it off as he crawled, he knew he couldn't walk, over to the table to get the wet wipes to clean them off, at least for now.

He took special care with Aya's cock as Aya actually groaned when he touched it, and gently cleaning his face before he cleaned himself, and balling up the wipes threw them so they were beside the spilled juice and discarded glasses. “Aya,” he murmured, curling up next to him on the floor. Aya still had his feet planted on the floor and his knees raised, his skirt around his waist. “Lose bets more often.” Aya barely had the energy to laugh at that.


End file.
